It Doesn't Kill Us to Be Nice
by SagittariusQuill
Summary: Could you carry on pretending it never happened?


**So hey. A few… alright MANY months ago I started a story and trashed it after the first chapter. I just didn't like my second chapter, and my first was pretty suckish. New Story! I can't promise perfect grammar at all times, I try, but I still miss things here and there. I'm rating this T for now, I plan on things getting darker and language getting cruder, but I wanted to ease you in. Rating may go up to M, but I'm honestly not very good at descriptive dark scenes yet, we'll have to see. I thrive on your feedback so please comment telling me how you like it, what you'd like to see, what you never want to see again, any questions you may have, criticism, hugs and kisses, flames and hate, I want it all! I do hope you enjoy!**

**~It Doesn't Kill Us to Be Nice~**

Julianna Culler nearly fell out of bed when the second alarm of the morning began to screech piercingly from the clock on the dresser across her hotel room. With much grace, she rolled out of bed, dragging the covers with her, to where she was sitting on the floor. She crawled across the floor and hit the button on the alarm clock, ceasing that god-awful noise.

Julianna wasn't used to the noise of New York City, especially after working at SHIELD HQ for nearly a year, and wasn't exactly sure when she had finally fallen asleep that night; she was more than certain it was after two-thirty in the morning. Waking up at five had been quite a challenge. After five minutes of leaning against the dresser and silently cursing the morning, Julianna got up and hopped in the shower. She finished getting ready, then checked out of the hotel and called a taxi.

Her SHIELD job title was "Companion Trauma and Terror Counselor," which was, as she had been told many times by her patients, a glorified live-in therapist. She would counsel to victims employed by SHEILD who had experienced terrible trauma and give the yay or nay to whether they could get back to work. Her job hadn't been as involved as it sounds for the majority of her career, usually just saying "everything will be fine" to paranoid SHEILD agents who saw the plans for world domination in some nut-jobs house then saying back to work, a few more weeks, or let 'em go.

This was going to be Julianna's first big assignment: she would have to counsel to the legendary Avengers.

She checked over her clients' files for, possibly, the one-hundredth time. She could NOT screw this up. If done right, this would looked really, really good for her.

Honestly, though, she really wasn't that nervous. She knew how to talk to people; and, from what she was told, these people really had it together. She didn't see herself staying there very long.

~o~

Soon Julianna was standing under the shadow of newly-repaired Stark Tower. For a building that had so much time and money poured into it, the tower was, truthfully, very ugly. She swiped her key-card and was allowed entry into the building. A voice from above welcomed her by name and directed her to the elevator.

"Would you like me to inform Master Stark of your arrival, Miss Culler?"

Julianna looked around for a speaker.

"I am JARVIS. Master Stark created m—"

"Oh, yeah." Duh. How could she forget about the talking house? "And, no, thank you, Mr. Stark should already be aware that I would be here now."

"Very well. I do feel I should warn you about the happenings upstairs."

"Happenings?" JARVIS actually sounded worried.

"Yes. They are playing some sort of wild game. And I cannot seem to determine the location of Agent Romanoff."

Oh, joy. Alcohol and trauma patients don't exactly go hand-in-hand. She was less concerned about the missing person.

"Thanks for the heads-up."

"Anytime, Miss Culler."

~o~

Soon, the doors to the elevator opened on the Commons Floor. JARVIS had put the scene mildly. Toilet paper was covering every surface. Pizza boxes, plastic cups, and half empty soda bottles were strewn about the bar, table, and floor. There was a massive, but very unstable fortress built out of couches, bar stools, and a coffee table that Agent Barton was balancing upon. He was shooting spit-wads out of a straw into another room. Apparently, he hit his target because he, Thor, and Stark all took a swig straight out of a vodka bottle. Thor and Stark were laughing hysterically and spilling their vodka everywhere; obviously a few drinks to the wind. Captain Rodgers was sitting with his back to her at the table across the room studying a map, seemingly unaware of her arrival and the entire display around him. It was high school in this penthouse. Agent Romanoff was, as JARVIS said, nowhere to be found. She didn't see Dr. Banner at the moment, but wasn't worried about that. A rolling chair came flying out of the target room with alarming force and hit the already-wobbling fortress. Found him. The fort toppled over sending a rather drunk Barton with it. Thor began to chug the bottle while Tony fell to the floor gasping for air as he gawfed like a lunatic and spilling the vodka all over himself. Julianna checked her phone.

It was six twenty-three, a.m.

_Oh my god, _was the only thought in Julianna's head. Dr. Banner walked out of the room, covered in spit-wads. _Well, I think I know what the target was._

He was the first to notice Julianna standing there. "You must be, Ms. Culler."

She reached forward to shake his hand, but pulled it back to avoid the spit-wads all over him. "Dr. Banner."

He nodded his head knowingly. "Please, just Bruce. I have to apologize; we aren't usually like this."

She cocked a questioning eyebrow.

Bruce sighed. "It's just nervousness."

"I take it I won't be working with anyone today," Julianna said while eyeing the mess her client's had made.

"Hey, Steve," Bruce called out. Captain Rodgers turned around in his chair. "You wanna give me a hand in here?"

Captain Rodger stood up and walked into the living room. He effortlessly tossed a now-passed-out Stark over his shoulder and walked him into another room. Bruce help up the other two laughing loons, but Thor seemed to have come down to Earth quite a bit. In fact, he appeared sober. _Gods._ Thor helped a staggering Barton down the hallway and Bruce followed behind them.

"It appears that I have won!" Thor bellowed as they trio disappeared down the hallway. Barton fell to the floor in hysterical laughter.

Julianna ran a hand through her hair. She turned around to find herself nose-to-nose with a person who definitely hadn't been there mere seconds before.

"Miss Culler, I have located Agent Romanoff," JARVIS said suddenly.

Julianna replied when she could breathe again. "Thanks, JARVIS."

Agent Romanoff smirked, "Natasha, the boys call me Nat. And you are the therapist?"

"Sure." No point in arguing. "Julianna, but you can call me whatever you'd like."

"Alright. Let's get this place cleaned up." Captain Rodgers returned to the room. "Can you put the sofas back, Cap?"

Julianna flipped over the coffee table. Captain Rodgers was holding a couch over his head.

"Hi, I'm Steve," he set the couch on his shoulder and extended a hand towards her.

"Julianna," she said, shaking his hand.

Steve smiled at her. "Julianna, lovely name for a lovely girl."

"Thanks," Julianna said with a smile. And he was a charmer. Julianna could feel herself blushing under his sky-blue gaze, but she couldn't look away.

Nat pushed the couch backwards knocking Steve onto his back and breaking his eye contact with Julianna. They all giggled a bit. Julianna reached out a hand to help him up, and they began to clean up the dump of a penthouse.

~o~

It took well over an hour to clean up the Common's floor, even with the combined help of Thor, Bruce, Steve, Nat, and Julianna. Steve told Julianna to let them clean up their own mess, but didn't argue when she insisted on helping. They had already stated coming up with their own nicknames for her: Thor called her "Anna", but she was sure he just didn't catch the first part, not being formally introduced; Bruce and Nat called her "Juli"; and Steve called her "Annie." Eventually, the sleeping beauties awoke, and just in time to sit uselessly on the couch. The band of misfits honestly didn't seem that bad, but Julianna soon began to realize why she was hired here.

There were some major problems from the group as a whole, the biggest one being their extreme lack of correlation. Their lives where so very different from each other: A billionaire who was used to having everything laid at his feet, including the world, but seemed to be hiding something; a kind, patient doctor with a warm smile, but eyes that held so much sadness; a spy who was clearly making up for lost time; an alien god who was having to cope with the betrayal of someone very close to him; a soldier from the past who had just been ripped from everything and everyone he had known and thrown into another century; and a rather unreadable sharp-shooter with a secret past. Add in, they had just saved the world from a previously unknown alien race and watched New York and its people fall feebly beneath an uncontrollable power. Clint had even been mind-raped by a god, helpless to resist against this terrorist; the others had to watch him fall, not knowing if Clint would ever return to himself or if they'd ever see him again. And Julianna was sure that there was even more to these people.


End file.
